Redemption
by oceansalt
Summary: It's the year 3014. The economy of the entire Earth has changed, and luckily, every person has given up their old ways, were reborn and became Christians. A eighteen-year-old girl named Myrah loves the Lord with all her heart and is so happy that everyone shares the same beliefs as her. Everyone, that is, except Isaac.


Sunlight beats through the windows, waking me from slumber. I rub my eyes and sit up, throwing out my arms into a stretch. Once the aftereffects of sleep are past, I get out of bed and run to the closet. Living in Jerusa, we can wear anything that are standard clothes, such as no shirts revealing midriff or cleavage, no shorts above fingertips, no bikinis.

When these rules were enforced fifteen years ago, and the towns of Jerusa, Bethle, Caper, Kish, Pesha, and Gomor were established and every person was forced to revert to Christianity by the government, I was still young. At age 3, I had no idea what was going on, other than the fact that my parents and older brother prayed at the dinner table and were in their rooms during the weekdays or scurrying about on Sundays. The religion grew on me, as my parents taught me about the Lord and prayer and important Biblical principles. When I was eight, I committed my heart to the Lord and became a follower of His. Since then, I have not once questioned my parents' or the government's rules, and am considered one of the Lord's children.

As I pull on jeans and a sweatshirt, I pray in my head, thanking God for a beautiful morning and asking us not to be late to school, as usual. Having a younger brother who gets up ten minutes before we need to leave every morning has made us late every day this school year. Even though he's only twelve, he thinks the whole world revolves around him, and God, of course.

"Myrah!" I hear my mother call to me from upstairs. "Hurry up, please! Breakfast is on the table!"

"Coming, Mother!" I reply, and rush down the stairs, my dark brown hair sweeping behind me. I forgot to brush it when I woke up, but I ran out of time. I rush to the dining room and sit at my place at the large wooden table where we eat our meals. My father, not surprisingly, is at work already, where he excels at helping people find the right homes. They call him a realtor.

"Is Dad gone?" I ask. Mother nods, putting a plate in front of me and seating herself across from me.

"Yes, he had to leave home early. Something about a problem at work." Mom replies, and shrugs. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. I prayed for him." I nod slightly and get to work eating the meal Mother has set before me. When I finish, I clean my dishes and run back downstairs to the bathroom, turning on the light of Shiloh's room as I go. He groans, still asleep in bed, and I laugh as I begin to brush my teeth. After my teeth are as white as snow, I yank a brush through my waist-length hair. Most of my friends have the same length of hair that I do because Biblical women wore their hair this way. It's something women cherish here. If you don't have long hair, it doesn't matter, you won't get shunned or anything, but long hair was a sign of wealth and beauty in the Bible. Of course, some of the rules in the Bible don't apply to us anymore, like how men are supposed to shave their beards or how to set up a tent or whatever.

I finish brushing my hair and run upstairs again, grabbing my backpack from its perch on the couch. Just as I slide the strap over my shoulder, my brother appears from his room, stumbling to the kitchen table. A now-cold meal is sitting before him, and he scoops some of the food into his mouth.

"Hurry up, please, Shiloh!" I yell, pulling at my backpack straps. Just as I say this, Mother appears from her room and slips her shoes on.

"Shiloh!" She calls. "You better hurry up, or we're leaving you here!" Mother says this jokingly, of course. We wouldn't leave him here on purpose. It's against the rules to be mean to family, friends, or anyone, for that matter. Not that I wouldn't, it's just that people who lived 20 years ago still tend to fall back on old habits, much like one of our old neighbors, who yelled if we played in his grass on accident. He eventually got evicted and had to do community service for several years. We learned that he didn't like children because his only daughter died of cancer when she was 14, even though she had been prayed for for a year and a half. You see, when someone in our community is sick, everyone who is able-bodied will go to their home and pray over them. Most of the time, the prayers work.

Most of the time.


End file.
